Pacing the perimeter of Pleasure Bay, my feet hurt real bad because I was wearing the worst pair of non-matching patterned no-show socks ever so I could pass off as wearing my wonderfully multi-cultural deck shoes sockless. I had a maritime theme going on, what with those shoes and my anchor necklace that kept getting caught in my cream-colored lace tanktop layered under a cashmere cardigan-hoodie. Oh, and I wore a skirt, too—American Apparel, of course—this sort-of-nautical chiffon skirt that you have to wear high in your waist so it doesn't look awkward. My friend was wearing some American Eagle polo and some shorts. He considered boat shoes, too, but decided against it in favor of re-sensitizing his feet to flip-flops.
I know, it's March, but it was warm so we hit the beach anyway.
The beach was pretty empty except for the locals that swarmed around this one food shack and after our lunch, we just sat there at the tables enjoying the view and judging all the South Boston residents that passed us. South Boston is where all the working class Irish Americans settled and they're basically our local counterpart to the rednecks, thick regional accent included. These are the people you see walking around outdoors in sweatpants with a Red Sox tee and a baseball cap. Sweatshirt hoodies are "in" and among the women, yoga pants are all the rage. They shop at "Wal-Maht" and watch sports religiously.
Eying a fat dude in a Red Sox cap, my friend tells me that out of all cultures, he's the harshest on Americans. How they don't really care about how they dress and how half the guys are all exactly the same. Another portly man walks by, virtually indistinguishable from the first guy, same cap on his head.
A man with tattoos all over his body talks to his wife dressed in a black tracksuit and I wonder if the Chinese characters on his neck are "ironic".
The funniest thing was that everyone you looked at was dressed for a different temperature. There were people who showed up in their windbreakers even though it was 70 degrees. One girl I saw was wearing short shorts. And this one guy wore both a winter jacket and plaid shorts. Probably couldn't make up his mind.
We got bored pretty fast so we left for the sand itself where we set our beach towel, played black and white Game Boy games and ate Airheads. We took impressionistic photographs of me facing the ocean, my skirt blowing in the wind.
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About the author: A prolific contributor to Jul with some 2422 posts published, Sofi better fancies herself as a cinema geek, a composer, a vintage gamer, a budding fashionita, an absolute cooking newbie and a general life enthusiast-satirist. She is responsible for a number of notable discussions about meteorology and current events and may be contacted at any time through private messaging.
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